


All I Need

by cherriblossom



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Sex, F/F, F/M, Family Tragedy, Fluff and Smut, M/M, its gonna get hella gay, sex to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1837147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherriblossom/pseuds/cherriblossom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco survives a fatal car wreck that took the life of his 4 year old brother, and he meets Jean, whose friend is in the hospital with a coma because of a car crash. They gradually become closer, and the circumstances of those car crashes are brought to light along the way. Also, Marco is somewhat of a devious little bastard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Smile

I wasn't sure if this was a good idea.

"Do I have to go? I mean, yes it's part of my therapy, but I don't want to talk about it in front of people I've never met before." I say, fumbling with the radio buttons. "Of course you have to go! Normally, I would let you skip, but Dr. Leonhart looks like she'll grill you on those sessions, so you better go." Mom explains. I sigh, knowing that Mom wouldn't normally let me skip unless I was very ill. I don't think that Dr. Leonhart would grill me on any of the sessions. I think that this is Mom's way of saying 'you have to go, no excuses.' I guess I should go, but that doesn't mean that I want to talk about that night.

We sat in silence for the rest of the ride, the radio playing bad 70s pop music. Mom, couldn't you have better music tastes? "Mom, can I please change the radio station?" I ask, being polite. "No, Marco. You can either listen to the music, or figure out how to block it out." she says. Usually, she lets me change the radio, but if it's 70s pop, you don't ask to change the station. You sit there while your eardrums burst, or you put in headphones. And I forgot my headphones at home. The music quarrel is forgotten, because as we get closer to the meeting place, the more nervous I get. I wipe my palms on my jeans, but they quickly become wet again. In about ten minutes, we arrive at the meeting place: a picnic pavilion near a local pond. It was a pretty place, or it would be if the shoreline wasn't littered with trash. I take a deep breath and get out of the car. "See you in an hour, Mom!" I smile, shutting the door. "Alright, Marco! See you then!" She smiled, pulling away. 

I walked up to the pavilion, knees shaking. You're okay, you're okay, you're okay, I tell myself. I sit down, hoping to see a familiar face, but I was greatly disappointed. I sighed, resigning myself to my current situation. I was alone, with no one to talk to. "Hey, do you mind if I sit here?" I heard someone ask. His voice was deep, but yet musical. I look up and saw that the voice belonged to a very attractive young man who looked a little older than I was. He was wearing converse, black skinny jeans that fit him perfectly, an old Ramones tank, and a red beanie. He also had gauges, and they made this guy more attractive. I noticed that he had an undercut, the top being ash blonde and the bottom being dark brown. He also had piercing brown eyes, and sun kissed skin. 

"Hey, do you mind if I sit here?" he repeated, a bit louder. I snap out of it and blush. "Uh, no I don't mind!" I say, feeling heat on the back of my neck. He sat down, and I chastised myself for staring too long. It seemed like he didn't notice my staring, so I was saved. 

Suddenly, a man with one arm stood up and raised his hand, signaling that the meeting was starting. "Hey, guys, it's time to get started! So I see a few new faces, therefore I'll introduce myself. I'm Erwin, and I lost my arm in a crash when I was sixteen. I am now twenty five years old, married, and I'm studying psychology at Sina University. For those of you who are new, there's one piece of advice I'll give you: no matter how terrible it gets for you, it'll get better, I promise. Now let's get to know each other. Let's go around and introduce ourselves." Erwin said, pointing at the girl on his left. 

The girl came forward, or rather, rolled forward. She had black hair tied in pigtails, a petite face, and dark grey eyes. She was strapped into the chair, so that she wouldn't fall out. She smiled and began talking. "I'm Mina, and because of a drunk driving incident, I'm paralyzed from the waist down." The guy next to her patted her shoulder sympathetically, and she smiled at him.

The guy next to Mina stood up. "I'm Mylius, and I lost my leg in a hit and run incident." he said, rolling up his pants leg. He had a prosthetic leg in place of where the real one should've been. I was better off than half of these people, but then it hit me. While I may not have physical damage from that wreck, I had plenty of emotional damage. 

I didn't really pay attention to most of them, the only ones being Mina, Mylius, and Hannah, who lost her boyfriend Franz in a 3 car pileup. Soon it was Hottie McHotterson's turn. He cleared his throat and stood up.

"My name is Jean Kirstein, and I'm 18 years old. I'm a senior at Trost High, and I was the state champion in tennis." He went to my school, and we were the same age, yet how did I not know him? He stopped, and then continued. "One night, I was with my tennis partner, Eren Yeager. We were driving down the road, and then we collided headfirst with another car. I got out with some broken bones and a mild concussion. Eren, he wasn't so lucky. He's still in the hospital with a coma." Jean finished somberly.

He sat down, signaling that it was my turn. I stood up, and spoke with a stronger voice than I thought I possessed. "I'm Marco Bott, and I'm a senior at Trost High also." Jean perked up, listening closely. "I don't remember much of anything. I just remember waking up in the hospital, being told that my four year old brother died in the wreck." I spit out, wiping tears from my eyes. Mina wheeled herself over to me, giving me a hug. She smiled at me sadly, then wheeled back to her spot. 

"I guess that this concludes the meeting. Help yourself to the cookies, there's plenty." Erwin said, trying to bring some happiness back, and it worked. Everyone made a beeline for the cookie table, and I heard some other conversations happening. 

"Wow, way to bring everyone down, huh?" Jean asked. I looked around, seeing if he was talking to someone else. 

"You talking to me?" I ask, pointing to myself.

"Yes, you." Jean chuckled. "Hey, you said that you went to Trost High, correct?" he asked.

"Yeah, I moved her from Jinae last summer." I explain.

Jean nodded. "I guess that explains why I haven't seen you before. Trost is a pretty big school." he muses. I nod, not sure what to say. "Hey, you said that your name was Marco, right?" he asked.

"Yeah. So you were a state champion? How come I haven't heard about that until now?" I ask, not believing that this gorgeous guy was talking to me.

"Our school isn't that big on tennis. Everyone thinks that it's a loser sport. So it doesn't get talked about that much." he says.

Come on Marco, say something fricking interesting. "Fun fact, I used to play tennis back in Jinae." That sounded interesting enough. And it was apparently impressive, judging from the grin on his face. 

"You should talk to Coach Ackerman when we get back. I do need a new partner, and you look promising as an athlete." Jean complements me, and I blush. 

"Would you mind having a practice match with me tomorrow?" I ask. He looks surprised, but then a self confident smirk spread across his face. 

"What time?" he smirks.

"Around two." I say.

"Alright, yeah. But don't be disappointed if you lose." he winked. He said 'if', not 'when'. That means that he thinks that I have a chance against him. I felt ecstatic, glad that he talked to me. I'll have to look for him at school.

I get up and go get a cookie, and Mina smiles at me. I smile back and walk up to her, hoping to start a conversation. "Hey, Mina!" I say cheerily, taking a bite of my chocolate chip cookie. The chocolate melted on my tongue, the cookie itself being light and fluffy, dissolving into the chocolate. 

"Are you waiting for someone?" I ask. Of course she's waiting for someone, Marco. Quit asking the obvous, stupid.

"Yeah. My boyfriend Thomas is driving me home. I'll eventually learn how use hand controls so I can drive myself around someday, but after what happened, I'm not gonna drive for a while. You know what I mean?" Mina asks.

"Yeah. I do know what you mean, Mina. I'm not gonna drive anywhere for a while either.: I say inbetween cookies. 

"You sure do like those cookies!" Mina laughs. 

"They're good!" I say in defense. We both share a laugh, a genuine one, and it felt good.

A white pickup truck soon pulls up, and my mom's car is right behind it. A guy with blond hair, massive sideburns, and kind brown eyes gets out of the truck, and Mina grins from ear to ear. "Hey, Thomas!" she yells, and he grins back at her.

"I guess I'll see you later, Mina!" I say, walking to my mom's car. 

"Alright Marco, see you later!" Mina yells. Thomas walks up to her and kisses her. I then get in my mom's car. 

"How was it?" Mom asked, putting the car in reverse, then pulling around Thomas's truck. 

"It went well actually. Hey, can I go to the tennis courts tomorrow?" I ask, pulling a puppy dog face. She always falls for the puppy dog face. She looked at me, probably to say no. She sees my face and she sighs. 

"Alright Marco, you can go to the tennis courts tomorrow. What time do you need to be there?" she asked. 

"Two, if that's okay" I tell her with a smirk on my face. I knew the puppy dog face would work! Mom just nods and we sit in silence on the way home, listening to the same 70s pop as this morning.

Yep, my mother still has terrible music tastes.


	2. Chapter 2: Balls of Glory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a harmless little tennis match between Marco and Jean. Who's gonna win? Read on to find out my lovelies....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAHHH SO SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN FOREVER I'VE BEEN ON VACATION AND IT FEELS GOOD TO BE BACK!!!!!
> 
> Hopefully my limited knowledge on tennis won't be glaringly obvious in this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it! It's short, yes, but I'm going to make the next chapter longer I promise!

I showed up at the tennis courts at 1:45 the next day, fifteen minutes earlier than our meeting time. Mom was worried sick about me being left by myself for fifteen minutes. 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay Marco?”

“Mom, I’ll be fine. It’s only a few minutes. I’m just going to warm up before he gets here.”

“Alright, Marco. See you later  
!”  
I got out of the car, grabbing a backpack that contained my racket, and a few tennis balls. She pulls away, waving at me. I wave back, and I watch her car until I can’t see it anymore. The courts weren’t too terribly packed, and I could easily find one open. I pulled a tennis ball out of my backpack along with my racket. The racket was terribly worn, and I needed to buy a new one. After about ten minutes, I could see a brand new Mustang pull into the parking lot. A tall, slightly tanned guy gets out of the driver’s seat. He had the two toned hair that belonged to Jean. He was wearing shorts and a polo, with sunglasses on. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder, looking around. He saw me and a smile came on his face, then he was walking towards me.

“Good afternoon, Marco. You ready for me to kick your ass?” He grinned challengingly, and started to warm up.

“Are you sure that my ass is the one that’s going to get kicked?” 

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“I’m pretty sure that you haven’t gotten any decent practice in after winning the state championships. I could still beat you.”

“Really? Do you wanna make a bet on that?”

“Sure. What do you want to bet?”

“If I win, I’m going to take you to dinner at my favorite restaurant. If I lose, you have to take me to dinner.”

Wait a minute, was this his way of asking me on a date? No, Marco, it’s not. You barely know the guy. He just wants to go eat somewhere as friends. Guys night out. No, that just makes it sound worse. Oh well, I’ll figure out what I want to call it later.

“You’re on!”

Jean smiled roguishly, and I can’t say that it didn’t look hot. Especially with those aviator sunglasses on.

“My serve, Marco!” 

He hit the ball really hard. It glided over the net, and bounced. I returned the ball with a little bit more fervor, and he hit it back. I’m surprised that I could hit it the first time. Well, it’s nice to know that I’ve still got it.

Jean ended up getting the ball past me, winning the first round. I won the next one, and then he caught up with me on the one after that. We were both at match point, and he was determined to not lose. It was my serve. I was faintly aware of the beads of sweat dripping down my face and my back. My shirt felt like it was glued to my skin, but I could care less at the moment. It was just me, Jean, and the tennis ball. I threw it up and hit it over the net. Jean was dripping sweat also, but he was just as determined to win this as I was. 

We hit the ball back and forth five or six times, but then he hit the ball so hard that it sped towards me, too fast for my brain to comprehend, and certainly too fast for my racket to hit it. I heard the ball make a small thudding noise on the wall, and I knew that I had lost the match. We met in the middle of the court, and Jean offered me a fistbump. I returned it, and we laughed.

“I won both the match and the bet. So, I guess I’m taking you to dinner on Friday?” he smiled at me, that devilishly handsome smile. God, he needed to stop doing that. 

“Yeah, you are, Jean.” 

“Damn right, I’m taking you to dinner.”

We laughed, and that was when his phone went off in his bag. He looked at it, his smile vanishing into a look of concern. He made a dash for the bag and dug his phone out of one of the side pockets. He stared at the message a few times, his face going from concern to shock and then to disbelief, all in the time period of one minute. He sank to the bench, still clutching the phone, with the same facial expression.

“Jean, is something wrong?” I asked, but he didn’t seem to hear me. What was going on? “Jean. Jean did you hear me?” 

“Huh?” he snapped out of his trance, looking at me. 

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just…” he sighed. He obviously didn’t know how to tell me what was going on. 

“Hey, you can tell me. I won’t run around and tell everyone, I promise.” 

“You don’t have to promise. You don’t look like the type to blab everything someone says to other people.” Jean smiles.

“It’s just…well, you remember at support group, how I said that a friend of mine was in the car wreck with me, and he was in the hospital with a coma?” I nodded. “Well, he’s been like that ever since early April. And his girlfriend just texted me saying that he woke up.” 

I was speechless for a second. My brother was like that too, except that he didn’t wake up. I didn’t even get to see him in his hospital room. I was told via a nurse who was changing my IV. Jean’s lucky. At least his friend woke up, and his girlfriend told him the news.

“Go see him. I’m sure that he’ll be thrilled to see his tennis partner again.” I say. 

He looked at me, as if to tell me that he knows that, and I just stop talking. 

“I’ve gotta go, man. It was nice to play with you and everything.” He jumps up and starts walking towards his car, and he gets in and pulls away, getting to the hospital as fast as he can. My mom comes in about thirty seconds later, and I get in her car.

“Good grief, that kid pulling out of the parking lot nearly hit me. Seriously, people need to learn how to drive.” She complained.

“He was probably in a hurry to get somewhere.”

“Well, he should be more careful about what he’s doing. So, how did the match go?”

“I lost, and as a result I am going to dinner with Jean on Friday night.”

Mom smiled, and we spent the rest of the car drive in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was fun to write.
> 
> Next chapter will be told from Jean's POV (yay!) and a little bit of a plot twist will be thrown in there as well (might wanna grab your tissues, guys.)
> 
> Also, I've started up an snk imagine blog, where you request any ship and I'll write a headcanon/ficlet, whichever one you want! Here's the link: http://shingeki-no-imagine.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3: A Twist In My Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's POV, in where he gets to see Eren for the first time since their car accident. However, it doesn't turn out as well as planned.

I sped down the highway trying to get to the hospital as fast as I could. 

I had pretty much given up hope that Eren would wake up. Not very many people I know wake up from comas (and I’ve lost several people like that. Younger cousins, grandparents, a parent, the list goes on and on.) Soon, the hospital came into view, and I pulled into the parking lot. It crossed my mind that I still had my smelly tennis clothes on, but I didn’t care. I needed to see Eren and Mikasa, and make sure that Eren was okay.

I could easily spot Mikasa in the waiting room. She had her red scarf on, and she was wringing her hands nervously. Mikasa came here everyday, and she was usually up in Eren’s hospital room, holding his limp hand hoping that he would wake up. She looked up and saw me, and trotted over to me. She was obviously excited, and I could see the bags under her eyes. She hadn’t gotten much sleep since the crash. Hopefully, this little development would change that.

“Hi, Jean. How’ve you been?” Mikasa straightened her scarf nervously. 

“I’ve been doing okay, Mikasa. How’s Eren doing?”

“From what the doctors have said, he’s doing okay. I haven’t seen him yet. I’ve been waiting for you to get here so we can go in together.” I simply nodded, and we went on the elevator up to room 104, where Eren was. 

When we got there, I stared at the door. I used to come daily, but then I just…quit. Had Eren even noticed? What would the little shit say when I came in again. “Welcome back, horseface. Long time, no see.”? I don’t know, but I hope that he won’t be too angry with me for what happened. But what did I do? He was the one driving, not me. He’ll be angry with me for some other reason.

“You ready?” Mikasa asked. I nodded, and opened the door. As soon as I walked in, I was hit with the smell of antiseptic. Not like the place already smelled of it, but it was especially strong in here. I saw that there were several bunches of flowers on the countertops and bedside tables. Some of the bunches were fresh, and they were obviously fresh and colorful at one point, and now they were all in various stages of decomposition and death. I found the hospital bed and saw the boy in it. My old tennis partner, Eren Yeager.

He didn’t look as strong as he looked back in April. Then again, it was July, and he had been in a coma for the past three months. He had lost most of the muscle that he had, and his skin had lost its tan shade. It was a shade paler, but it looked weird compared to his green eyes. His hair looked a bit longer than it was at the time of the wreck. He wasn’t hooked up to all of the machines anymore. Yes, he was still on the IV and some other medications, but he didn’t have the oxygen mask on, and there weren’t as many wires piercing his skin. 

Mikasa ran up to the bed and hugged him, being careful not to bump the IV line. However, he looked confused. I heard a sniffle, and I could tell that it wasn’t from Eren. He looked at me, and narrowed his eyes. Not in a mean way, but in a confused way, like he knew who I was, my name was on the tip of his tongue, but he wasn’t sure if the name was correct. It was creeping me out, to be honest. Why in the fuck was he staring at me like that? Why wasn’t he hugging Mikasa? Unless…unless…

“Who are you, lady?” Eren asked. His voice wasn’t the same either. It wasn’t as loud and brash as it once was. It was small and hoarse, like it hadn’t been used in forever. It hadn’t but I was pretty sure that when he woke up, he would sound a bit stronger, and talk a little more.

Mikasa pulled away, and wiped the tears from her face. “Eren, it’s Mikasa. We’ve been dating for the past six months. I’m your girlfriend.” Eren just stared at her blankly. “I don’t remember having a girlfriend. I was single six months ago.” Mikasa’s grey eyes widened a little bit. 

“No you weren’t. For our first date, you took me on a walk in the park. You showed me this old tree deep in the center of the park, where no one went anymore. You pulled me in under the shade of the tree, and you kissed me. Don’t you remember that, Eren? Tell me you remember that!” Mikasa’s voice started to slowly rise. That wasn’t good. She never rose her voice at anyone, especially Eren. However, Eren stared at her blankly. 

“Are you sure that was me? I could never be that romantic, Mikasa.” His eyes held all of the confusion in the world. God, that was fucking terrible. Wait a minute, if he didn’t remember Mikasa then that means that he didn’t remember me. Or anything we did together. Oh no. Please tell me that this isn’t happening. It isn’t fucking happening. Eren’s just being a dipshit and pranking us. He’s gonna start laughing and Mikasa’s gonna start telling him how he isn’t being funny, and how he gave her a heart attack. Come on Eren, please be fucking joking.

“Eren, I’m Jean. We’re tennis partners at Trost High School. We won the state championships in tennis a few months ago.” I was being gentle, trying to bring that basic reminder back to him. Please remember that little tidbit, Eren. Come on, I know that you can do that.

“Did I? But why would you be my partner? You look like the kind of person that I would’ve hated to play with.” Eren stared at me. He was on the dot there. He did hate playing with me for the first few weeks. 

“We did hate each other. But remember when we egged that bastard Auruo’s house on Halloween? That was really when we became friends. Come on, Yeager, I know that you can fucking remember that much. Please tell me you do!” My eyes are starting to sting. I’m gripping his shoulders now, my arms taut and ready to shake him. 

“Well, I don’t remember that, so I’m sorry. Would you please let me go?” Eren said the last part harshly, and he narrowed his eyes menacingly at me. Holy shit. The kid really did have amnesia. I stepped back from the bed, and Mikasa just sat there, numb. She was done crying. She got up slowly, and I swear I could see her knees shaking. “Come on, Jean. We’ll go talk to the doctor, Eren.”

He stared after us, his eyes still narrowed. I was glad when we shut the door, to be honest. 

Mikasa looked around, and she found Dr. Shadis, Eren’s doctor, coming towards us. He was bald, with a bit of a beard on his chin, wrinkles around his eyes, and he had dark skin. He looked a bit intimidating. How was this guy supposed to be a doctor? I just hope that he doesn’t work with kids, because he looks like the stuff that’s made up of their nightmares. Just saying.

“Dr. Shadis.” Mikasa calls him, and he looks up from his keyboard to look at us. “Yes, Miss Ackerman?” he booms. I flinch, rubbing my ears. We are in a hospital, goddammit. You would think that he knew the whole “be quiet” rule around here. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that Eren has amnesia? He doesn’t remember me, or Jean, or anyone else probably.” Mikasa sounded oddly calm, especially when I could see that the tears were welling up in her eyes.

Dr. Shadis sighed. “I tried to tell you, but you were so happy and you were off to text him and I had another patient to attend to. I’m sorry, Miss Ackerman. If you’re looking for a treatment plan, I can suggest several therapy programs. Of course he’ll have to relearn some basic math and science things, but I’m sure that he’ll be able to graduate with the rest of you.”

Mikasa looked angry. Shadis is going to get his ass whooped and handed to him on a silver plate. Instead she sighed, and resigned herself to the situation. “That decision is not in my hands, sir. I can call Eren’s parents, and I’ll have them come and talk to you about therapy sessions.” Wait, what? That wasn't the outcome I was expecting.

“Thank you, Miss Ackerman. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to check on patients now.” We got up, thanked the doctor for his time, and left the office. We both went to the door, where I stood for a few minutes. 

“Do you think he’ll be okay, Mikasa?”

“I’m sure he will. Maybe he won’t remember everything, but I hope that he gets close enough.”

I nodded, not sure how to respond. “Well, I have to get going, Mikasa. I’ll see you soon.”

I got out to the parking lot, and managed to stumble into my car. There, I just let it all out. I had been holding tears back since I visited Eren, and it seemed like a good time to let them all out. It sucked, it really did.

I pulled out my phone in order to text Marco, but I saw that I had forgotten to ask him for his number before I left. Dammit.

I sigh, wiping the remaining tears away. Then I started my car, and drove home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, ok, ok, I'm sorry!!!! If you want to yell at me, you can go to either of my tumblrs to yell at me, or just comment below!
> 
> My personal: shingekinoimdone.tumblr.com  
> Writing: shingeki-no-imagine.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4: Cool Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is gonna focus a bit more on the more minor characters in the story, but we will return to Jean and Marco eventually! I hope you enjoy this chapter (and rejoice, because I've finally updated!) Marco's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK!!!!
> 
> I'm sorry that it took me forever since I last updated, but I had a ton of stuff going on and this is the first time that I've had personal time this semester, so I decided to give you all a lovely gift and update this fic! REJOICE!!!

     The other day, Mylius had invited me to come over to play Call of Duty. I didn't even like Call of Duty, but I wanted and/or needed to get out, at least, according to Mom.

     "Mom, aren't you even slightly concerned? I mean, you've never met Mylius. How do you know if he isn't a serial killer or something?"

     "Honey, I'm positive that you will be okay with Mylius. He hasn't murdered anyone yet. Now get in the car."

     I roll my eyes, but I go ahead and grab my backpack, which is filled with granola bars, fruit snacks, Cheetos, and several other types of junk food. I would feel bad if I went over and didn't bring anything to show some appreciation for Mylius having me at my house. I know, I know, I'm too generous sometimes.

     It turns out that Mylius lived right down the road from me, like walking distance. At least we found the house though.  If you had let me try to find it, I probably would have ended up on the other side of town, and that wouldn't be good.

     "Okay, honey, have fun! I'll be back around five, so be ready then! Bye, baby!" Mom blew me a kiss, and waited until I knocked on the door.  Mylius opened it, smiling. He waved at my mom, and I'm pretty sure she waved back. I heard her car pull out of the driveway, so then it was just me and Mylius.

     "Hey, Marco, come in! Sorry if it's a mess, I haven't really had an opportunity to clean anything." I followed him inside, and I shut the door firmly behind me.

     His house was cozy, I must admit. I walked into the living room, where they had a leather couch, and a giant flatscreen TV surrounded by an entertainment center filled with movies. The DVR sat on a bottom shelf somewhere, and it had a wooden floor, with a pretty rug on it. The coffee table was covered with papers and old coffee mugs. Other than that, the room was pretty clean.

     Mylius's room was upstairs, and the staircase spiraled upwards. The hallway was carpeted, and I could feel my feet sinking into the carpet. When Mylius opened the door to his room, I stood there dumbfounded for a moment.  He had a full size bed, with a simple black comforter on it, but it was decked out with pillows. He had a bookshelf filled with books, movies, and video games. On top of his dresser, there was a moderate sized flatscreen on there, along with an Xbox and a Playstation 4. He had a very nice home, I must admit.

     "Earth to Marco!"

     "Huh?" I whipped around and saw Mylius sitting on his bed laughing.

     "Blown away by the luxury?"

     I shook my head, but we both knew that I was lying.

     "It's okay. Everyone who's come over has done that at one point or another."

     "Hey, are you ready to play Call of Duty?" Mylius asked. I come out of my stupor and I nod. I don't feel like mentioning my dislike of Call of Duty, because I feel like it would be rude. It's his house, he gets to pick the game.

     He goes to turn on the Xbox and he grabs two controllers, and he offers one to me. I decline, which is stupid because I just told him that I wanted to play, but oh well. "Marco, you said you wanted to play." Mylius said kindly, still holding out the controller.

     I shake my head again and sit down. I feel my throat closing up, and my eyes start becoming blurry. Don't cry right here, Marco. Don't do it, don't do it. No use. I feel a tear slide down my cheek and another one down my nose. Well, that's just great.

     "Marco! Hey, Marco! Are you alright? Do you need to go home?" Mylius is leaning down in front of me, wiping my tears away with a tender hand.  I push them away gently and wipe the rest of my face with the back of my hand.

     "No, I'm fine, I don't need to go home."

     Mylius nodded his head. "Do you want to talk about it? If you don't that's cool too. We can change the game if you want."

     "It's just....I used to play this game all the time. My brother Matthew would come in sometimes and ask what I was playing, and I would tell him. I would sometimes let Matthew play the game with me, like one-on-one. I would never let him play campaign mode and I would always have the blood turned off, you know? He really enjoyed those days, and that was kind of how we bonded. We were really close...." I trail off, the tears threatening to spill again.

     "Was Matthew the one that died in the wreck?" Mylius asked gently. He waited on me to find my words again, and it was oddly soothing.

     I cleared my throat before continuing. "Yes. All I remember is that I was driving, and Matthew was with me. I picked him up from a friend's house and it was late at night. The rest is a blur. I remember a car colliding with me headfirst, and the force was so great that it threw Matthew out of the car. I was told he didn't have a seatbelt on, which isn't surprising because it was a 10 minute drive, and he usually didn't put his seatbelt on when he went to his friend's. I got a major concussion with cracked ribs, and then several lacerations which required stitches." I stopped because my throat closed off and it hurt too much to talk. I could feel the pain when I tried to breathe, sneeze, or laugh. I remembered the feeling of the stitches in my skin and how weird they felt. My head was shaved because there was blood on my head and I remember how much it stung when I had to shower.

     "Hey, it wasn't your fault, Marco. Don't beat yourself up for it." Mylius tried patting my shoulder to comfort me. It wasn't really working.

     "When I lost my leg, I blamed it on myself for the longest time. Now I realize that it wasn't my fault, but I still have those days where I think it's my fault. They never found the guy responsible for hitting me and leaving me there for dead. I remember waking up in a pool of my own blood, freaking out. I couldn't stand because it hurt too much. Fortunately, someone called an ambulance and they were able to stop the blood loss, but if they hadn't called the ambulance, I probably would've died from blood loss. At least, that's what the doctor told me."

     I look up, and Mylius wipes another tear away. My eyes are red and swollen I know. I sniffle and stand back up, walking briskly past Mylius. "Thanks, Mylius. I'm better now."

     "That's good! Do you want to play Titanfall or Outlast or something like that?" he asked.

     "Yeah, let me grab some snacks out of my backpack and we can play Titanfall." I smiled and threw him a granola bar that I dug out of the backpack.

     We played Titanfall until Mom came to pick me up. "It was nice hanging out with you, Mylius. We should do this again sometime."

     "Alright, bro. See you later!" Mylius said as he walked me to the door.

     I got in the car, and Mom started pulling out, waving at Mylius. "So, how'd it go, Marco?"

     "It went well, Mom. It was nice to just go and play some video games."

     "That's good, honey. Hey, does fettucine alfredo sound good to you for dinner tonight?"

     "That sounds great, Mom!" I smile, and she smiles back. Then again, she knows that fettucine alfredo is my favorite, so of course I'm going to say yes.

     As soon as I get inside of the house, I go to my laptop and check my Facebook. I see that I have a friend request, and I go down to see who it is. Probably someone I knew in middle school that's moved to Timbuktu or something like that and they just magically remembered my name.

     _Jean Kirchstein_

     I stare at the name for a while, before I finally click the accept button and shut my laptop again so I could take a nap.

    I don't know about you, but crying definitely wears you out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this chapter was fairly short, but at this point we're gonna have to accept that I hate writing long chapters. Keep an eye out for Mylius, because he's going to play an important part in the story later. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on ao3, so I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I would like some feedback on this story, so it'll be better in the future. If you have anything at all, please comment it or message me on my tumblr! Like I said, I hope you enjoyed this story and an update will come soon!
> 
> My tumblr is shingekinoimdone


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